


Red

by silverstardust



Series: Secrets of Beforus [2]
Category: Homestuck
Genre: Attempted Murder, Beforus Culling (Homestuck), Bigotry & Prejudice, Chimeras, Culling, Delusions, Enforced Caste Roles, Growing Up, Guilt, Injury Recovery, Karkat Needs a Hug, Medical Trauma, Mildly Dubious Consent, Prophetic Visions, Psychological Trauma, Raising children, Rebelling Against Expectations, Romantic Angst, Running Away, Written in Class, by a four sweep old, eridan is not meant to be the bad guy, history of beforus, karkat's extra we've been over this, mentions of an arranged marriage, unknowing bigotry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-20
Updated: 2018-04-20
Packaged: 2019-04-25 06:22:24
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,594
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14372799
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/silverstardust/pseuds/silverstardust
Summary: You should probably do the grub a favor and kill it. It’s so pathetic and tiny, and its color is so clearly mutated. It won’t ever have a lusus. It’ll definitely die young. It’ll make a good snack. No one will ever know or miss him. As far as anyone else knows, he won’t have ever existed. So you lift the grub to your mouth and bare your fangs.You picture the troll he could turn into and find yourself unable to bite down. The grub squeals and plays with your finger.“You are an insufferable nuisance,” you inform the grub. It continues to play with your thumb and continues not being killed by you.





	Red

**Author's Note:**

> PLEASE READ
> 
> This is in Kanaya's POV. That being said, there's some pretty fucked up shit that happens to everyone's favorite green gay. Despite this, I want to reiterate- ERIDAN. IS. NOT. MEANT. TO. BE. THE. BAD. GUY. Yes, he's a bigoted jerk who takes protecting waaaaay too far, and yes, he does kind of force Kanaya into a relationship, but he doesn't mean to. Kanaya is just as much at fault for not being honest with her feelings.  
> Okay carry on and enjoy!

Your name is Kanaya Maryam, and you are a jadeblood. Your lusus was a Virgin Mothergrub, meaning you are destined to be the next Head Mother of the Brooding Caverns.

You don’t like this. It means you have more training to fulfill than all the other seven sweep jadebloods (even the males!). You’re not allowed to leave the caverns either. Ever. It’s apparently some sort of sacrilege- your body must be pure from outside contact, nevermind the fact that you are a daywalker. You’ll always be down in the caverns, hidden away from the light of the sun and the twin moons of Beforus, and any other troll with blood of non-jade hues. You hate your life. You want to be able to go outside and play with the other jadebloods underneath the light of the moons. You don’t want to be stuck around these over-sized blood sucking ticks for the rest of your life. You’ve even tried offering yourself as a handmaid to care for the next heiress to the Empress, but you’re almost certain your mail was intercepted by the two jadeblooded men who serve as your bodyguards. (You knew from the beginning they probably would, but it didn’t stop you from trying.)

Every night you pray to the lime-blooded goddess, patron of all midbloods, of Spring and rebirth, and second chances, for freedom from your captors.

(Then you pray to her blood-lusted, crazed brother, the blue-blooded god of death and Winter to kill her so you can be free of her traditions for good measure.)

You are heading back to the cave that serves as your block for the day (night? You can’t keep track down here.) The echoes of crying, squealing, growling and screaming grubs hatching and feeding and fighting bounce off the walls. Your ‘block’ isn’t too far from the main grub cavern, so their neverending noises always serenade you to sleep (not). The worst part is that sometimes, the grubs wander and end up in the halls, and even in your block.

You hate those pesky, noisy, gross, oversized parasites. You hate your job.

Something squeals and attacks your ankle. You scream and flail, but no burly jade men pop out, so you assume it’s not an assassin. (Too bad, you would’ve paid them to kidnap you if you could, haha.) You sit up, and pull up your skirts- it’s just an annoying, hungry stray grub that you can  _ probably  _ kick away and have it find its own way back to the cavern.

It’s hard to spot the grub at first. You have to illuminate your daywalker glow first (ooo, the Head Mother would punish you for using it, haha) to see the shine of its hard exoskeleton. Even then, it’s hard to see it. Its red exoskeleton (unnatural red, bright bright, the red of an injured animal-) almost blends in the with red of the caverns around you and the red of your uniform skirt. Its body is sleek and horrifyingly thin, clearly underfed, unlike the plump colorful grubs in the other sections of the caverns. Its gnawing on your ankle to get to your vein with desperation, like it’ll die if it doesn’t. It probably will, you muse, it looks like it hasn’t been fed in  _ weeks _ .

“It’s very rude to bite someone without asking,” you snap at the grub. It continues to gnaw on your ankle with determination, curling its body around your ankle and sinking its feelers in.

“You won’t even get much if you bite from my ankle. There’s a bone in the way!”

The grub does not respond. It is incapable of understanding speech or making any noise other than squeaking or screaming. It continues to gnaw on your ankle. You crouch down and tap it between its eyes. The second, clear, protective eyelid of the grub snaps shut, and it detaches from your ankle with an angry squawk. You pry it off your legs and hold it up.

You should probably do the grub a favor and kill it. It’s so pathetic and tiny, and its color is so clearly mutated. It won’t ever have a lusus. It’ll definitely die young. It’ll make a good snack. No one will ever know or miss him. As far as anyone else knows, he won’t have ever existed. So you lift the grub to your mouth and bare your fangs.

You picture the troll he could turn into and find yourself unable to bite down. The grub squeals and plays with your finger.

“You are an insufferable nuisance,” you inform the grub. It continues to play with your thumb and continues not being killed by you.

You can’t bring yourself to kill it. You sigh softly and tuck him against yourself. You haven’t heard anything from your bodyguards- surely by now they would’ve emerged to take the grub back to the cavern. Are they having a change of guard- yes, definitely, you think, they definitely would’ve appeared by now if they weren’t. You have a small window of time.

You quickly walk to your cavern block before the new bodyguards can start trailing you, and close the curtain that serves as your door. They won’t be allowed to enter, your body is pure and none must lay an eye on anything but your hands, face, or the barest glimpse of your ankle. You pet the grub’s head as you settle yourself in your blanket pile.

You can’t feed him from somewhere that might be visible at one point or another, you don’t want someone to find out and take him away. Your arms are out of the question. Feeding him from your neck, despite your shirt’s high collar, is not recommended- he could consume too much blood and leave you unconscious. You need to be able to walk normally, so your legs are out of the question too. That just leaves-

You lift your shirt and expose your stomach to the grub. It doesn’t take the hint and makes that hungry-growl at you, so you lift a claw and gently scratch your stomach with it, just enough to draw a little bit of blood. The grub gives a squeal, finally getting the hint, and latches on right away and begins immediately sucking your blood, the chitinous plates of its mouth separating and pulsing and ew ew ew that is so legitimately gross. You resist the urge to flail and toss the grub far away from you as possible. You can’t pull your eyes away from it though, but it makes your nauseous, so you eventually do.

Shortly after you lose all feeling in your stomach and start feeling just a little bit dizzy, it detaches from your stomach and chirps at you. It scuttles up to your face, gives you a loving headbutt with its horns, and curls up into a ball against your neck to fall asleep. You sigh and clean your wound with a discarded shirt before covering it up.

You can not become attached to it. It will stay here in the caverns while you plot your escape, and legitimately escape, and get to explore the world above. It’s going to die very young, and that is not your problem. It is the way of life. But the more you watch the sleeping grub- it’s purring in its sleep now- the less you want to get rid of him. It’s so bright red, it’ll never get a lusus. It’s so bright red, you can’t guarantee it’ll even get fed, not if it blends into the cavern walls like it does.

You picture the troll it could turn into one day. Messy hair, and crooked fangs, but bright red eyes and happy- a few knicks here and there from rough play- It’s going to need someone to give special care to him, no matter what. You could offer yourself as a caretaker to any highblood who culls him. Living on the surface. No more caverns, no more training. No Mothergrub, no millions of crying grubs.

Your ticket out.

 

* * *

 

 

Okay, in retrospect, your plan wasn’t the most brilliant one out there. Grubs are hard to keep a secret. They’re loud, they wander, and they’re messy. You can’t keep Karkat (you decided to name him that) (you also decided he’s probably a boy) on you because someone will find him but you can’t leave him in your block because he could wander and leave the block. In the end, your guards notice all your slipping away and notify the Head Mother. She storms into your block to demand answers in the middle of you feeding him.

Oops.

Now, you’re sweating like a pig. And you don’t have Karkat. He’s in a grub carrier in the Head Mother’s lap. You are dressed in fine, thick silks, head to toe so the light can’t touch your skin and the other trolls can’t see your skin either. You’re incredibly anxious too, you’ve never been allowed to even go near the surfaces, but here you are now. And you don’t know why, the Head Mother refuses to tell you.

You reach your hands out. “May I please-”

“No.”

You drop your hands back to your lap and longingly gaze at the grub carrier. He wouldn’t stop crying or squirming earlier, but he’s seemed to have either quieted down or cried himself to sleep. You’re sure it’s the latter, he’s never been in a grub carrier before, and the light up here is different from what his eyes are used to.

The train slows to a stop, and the Head Mother stands up. You follow her off the train, and the both of you climb into a carriage. The carriage takes off and you soon find yourself being dropped off in the courtyard of the Empress’s castle minutes later. The Empress and her Grand Advisor are standing on the steps, waiting for both of you.

The Empress is terrifying and beautiful.

You mean, she’s beautiful, she is. But something about her sets you on edge. You don’t know what, but you can tell. She’s extremely, extremely dangerous.

The two seadwellers descend the stairs, and as the Empress discusses something with the  Head Mother, the Grand Advisor turns to you and looks you over.

He’s extremely tall, even towering over the Empress. His jagged horns tower even higher, and his violet fins are pierced with many gold rings. For some reason, you’ve always pictured him as a rugged war veteran, after learning he had served as an Orphaner, but his skin is smooth and unmarred. He’s dressed nicely too, with a purple cape that matches the purple in his hair. He’s wearing glasses, too.

“Aren’t you burning up in that? It’s eighty degrees out here.”

You haven’t been told if you’re allowed to speak, so you nod your head.

“Then what made you decide to dress up like that?”

You gesture to the Head Mother. She hadn’t given you a choice about your clothing, she had dressed you herself. The Grand Advisor looks between the two of you.

“You can talk y’know.”

You sigh in relief and adjust your veil. You’re burning up out here in the heat of the twin moons. “My apologies, sir.”

“Let’s keep this short. The Empress wanted to cull the grub, but he’s not a true heir, so she won’t be able to get away with making free time to care for him. So now she wants me to cull the grub, but I’ve never been around a grub before. I wouldn’t know how to take care of it, and I’ll need help, I need a caretaker.” He flushes slightly. 

Your heart aches.

“I want to help, I really do. But my lusus was a Virgin Mothergrub, and I am expected to become the next Head Mother. I’m surprised I was even let out of the caverns for this, but I’m certain it has to deal with some sort of training that was going to happen eventually. I would love to help care for Ka- ah, the grub,” you catch yourself just barely. “My apologies.”

“Quite frankly, I don’t give a fuck,” the Grand Advisor drawls slightly. “You know how to raise a grub. And you can start right now because you’re here. That’s all I care about. I don’t care about your traditions.”

You nearly want to die of happiness. You get to live on the surface. You get to keep Karkat.

“Lord Ampora,” the Head Mother begins, “I beg that you reconsider. Kanaya’s duties are important, and-”

The Grand Advisor steps to her and towers over her threateningly. ‘I’ll suggest you don’t finish that sentence. The girl is coming with me.”

The Head Mother snaps her mouth shut with an audible click. She sets the grub carrier down, bows, and leaves as the Empress dismisses her.

You wait for her carriage to disappear, and the second it’s gone, you cheer loudly. You tear off your veil, and all the stuffy, unnecessary layers of heavy silk clothing, until you’re left in just your under shirt and innermost pettiskirt, barefoot. You then rush to the grub carrier, and pull Karkat out, spinning excitedly until you collapse in a fit of giggles. Karkat clings to the fabric of your shirt, curling up against you and purring louder than thunder. You give him a big fat kiss on his head, cooing at him until you remember where you are and who you’re with. You quickly leap back up, hugging Karkat to your chest and bow.

“I’m sorry, I-”

You don’t really have an excuse. You stay silent.

The Grand Advisor takes ahold of your shoulder and guides you inside, draping his cape over your shoulders.

“Karkat, huh?”

You flush again. “Yes, that’s what I’ve been calling him. You can change it if you like…”

“Sounds a little like ‘crab’, I think the Empress will like it.”

You smile slightly as the Grand Advisor leads you into the western wing of the castle and into a large block.

“I’ve prepared this block for you as best as I could. The windows and curtains can open as you wish, and I’ve made it as private as possible. The block directly connects to its own bathblock and the grub block.” The Grand Advisor opens the door for you, and you set Karkat down in the cradle to rest. “My block is directly across from yours. If you need anything, do not hesitate, I will provide it for you.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Eridan,” he corrects you. “A seamstress will be over tomorrow to help you with your clothes. Good morning.”

You turn to the windows as Eridan leaves your block and shuts the door. The sun is coming up.

You think you’ll go outside and see what the sun is like.

 

* * *

 

 

You quickly discover that, having lived underground and in the Brooding Caverns all your life, your body’s not prepared to combat upper world illnesses.

That being said, you can’t move. Everything is heavy, and the light hurts your eyes. You’re sweaty and gross but you’re shivering and you feel like you can never get warm, you can taste the foul hints of stomach bile on your tongue, and you’re dizzy and nauseous but-

But Karkat is crying. He’s hungry, and you have a job to do. But you certainly can’t feed him yourself, you don’t want to pass this illness to him, even if it’s just minor troll influenza.

You force yourself out of the bed, and weakly call for Eridan as you stumble to the grub block, leaning against the walls.

Eridan gently presses past you, and scoops Karkat, whose wailing turns into soft whimpers of anticipation, out of the crib. He sits down in one of the chairs, tears his wrist open with his own, shark-like teeth, and offers it to Karkat.

“Go back to bed.”

“But-”

“Bed. Rest. I’ll manage.”

You stumble back to your bed and pass out. It feels like you’re immediately being shaken awake by Eridan, but the light difference from the partially open curtains tells you that it’s evening time, no longer noon.

“Kanaya, cmon, wake up.”

“Karkat-?”

“He’s asleep. You have a high fever, you need a cold bath.” Eridan gently scoops you up and carries you to the bathblock. You’re vaguely aware, in your feverish state, that he strips you down and sets you into an abs _ olutely freezing bath, what is he thinking you’re already so cold- _

“Shh, no need to scream.” He gently covers your mouth with one hand and starts to gently rinse the sweat off your skin. “We need to lower your temperature, just relax, you’ll be alright.”

You absolutely do not relax, and shiver so much you’re practically vibrating, so tired and feverish you can barely register Eridan bathing you. 

When Eridan’s decided you’re properly clean of your sweat, he drains the bath, dries you up, and dresses you in a fresh daygown before tucking you back into bed. You know for certain this time you pass out again, even if it seems instantaneous that he’s waking you to drink some soup, because certainly soup takes time to make-

You begrudgingly let him feed you, simply because you barely have the energy to stay awake, much less feed yourself, before falling asleep again.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been two sweeps since you’ve started living on the surface. You’re an adult now, nine sweeps old and you’re free to do whatever you want. It makes you happy.

Karkat has built his cocoon as well, just a few days ago, right in the nursery. You’ve had the cradle replaced with a recuperacoon, simply because you want him to get used to sopor slime before you introduce him to the luxury of sopor bed mattresses. You’ve also replaced all the furniture in the block too, but you’ve left the coon alone.

Eridan enters the nursery and sits down next to you- the both of you are on coon watch, although more often just you, as this is your job. Eridan comes in whenever he can, and you know he does everything in his power to make time to. (The Empress has been turning a merciful eye from his duty-shirking.)

“No movements yet?”

“No, but I can tell he’s close to emerging. The coon’s gotten thinner, and you can see the outline of him now.” You gently reach out and touch the coon silk with one finger, admiring the outline of a small troll curled inside. “You’re doing a wonderful job, dear.”

Eridan offers you a glass of wine, and chuckles when you stare at it. “Kanaya, darling, you’re nien sweeps now. Go ahead. Although I must warn you, it is an acquired taste.”

You take the glass and carefully sniff it. It smells like sharpies, and it tastes like what you imagine sharpies would taste like if you ate them (which you will not do to test your theory). You force the mouthful down and say nothing about the taste to be polite, but you’re almost certain Eridan saw your disgusted face.

The thoughts about the wine are suddenly flung out the window when you realize Eridan is brushing your cheek with his fingers. He softly mumbles something under his breath, the vowels thick and drawn out almost like a moan, but you’ve heard him talk this way before, and you know this is the native tongue of his youth from under the waves, a secret language he only shares with the Empress or other seadwellers. He leans forward.

You panic and quickly duck your head. Eridan pauses for a moment, then gently kisses your forehead.

You quickly stand up. “It’s your turn to watch the coon today isn’t it? I’m going to bed. Good day.”

You retreat out of the nursery.

 

* * *

 

 

You should’ve let him kiss you. You owe him so much.

He’s saved you from the fate you would have otherwise had in the caverns. He made you this block, with all these luxuries, he has the royal seamstress supply you with the finest materials so you can make all your own clothes. He lets you eat with him and the Empress, he lets you go outside, and choose what you want to do. He’s done so much for you.

The least you can do is pretend to love him.

 

* * *

 

 

Chittering.

You can hear chittering.

You quickly sit up from your makeshift bed next to the cocoon. Said cocoon has split open, and the troll inside has gotten himself stuck. He stares at you with large black eyes, chittering.

“Eridan!” You yelled, quickly grabbing a towel. You scoop the tiny troll- Karkat, you scoop Karkat out of the cocoon and dry him off, helping him dress.

Eridan rushes into the block, and with glee upon seeing the tiny troll, scooped him up and spun him around. Karkat squealed, kicking his feet and after a moment, you take him back, and sit him in your lap. You carefully look over his entire body, ensuring he pupated properly.

“Sixth lunar cycle, twelfth sweep!” Eridan gives you a big (slightly wet) kiss on the cheek. “I’ll go tell the Empress!” He grins and rushes out of the block, and you can’t help but smile as well.

 

* * *

 

 

Karkat crawls into the coon with some difficulty before plopping into the slime. Wide, black eyes droopily stare up at you.

“Good morning, Karkat. Sleep well.” You gently kiss his forehead, and then smear a bit of slime on it. Karkat makes a non committal chirp at you, still unused to normal speech, and drifts further into the slime. You shut the respite block curtains and quietly leave the nursery.

Eridan is waiting for you in your block. You stiffen in surprise, but say nothing. You simply collect your daygown, and disappear behind the dividing curtain to change. (Honestly, it’s not even necessary, but Karkat is in your block as often as he is in his, and it would do some good to teach him body modesty.) You set your dirty clothes aside in the proper basket, and close the curtains, so that the sun’s soon expected arise won’t burn Eridan’s skin.

Eridan gently grabs your forearm, and tugs you to the bed. You willingly comply, and sit down on the bed next to him. He frowns for a moment, and adjusts your daygown. He pulls the straps off your shoulder slightly, then tightens the sash. (When you look in the evening, when you wake up, you realize his adjustments were meant to make your breasts and hips look fuller.)

He plays with a strand of your hair, silent for a moment before he speaks. “It’s so soft and beautiful. Have you ever tried growing it out?”

You lightly touching your hair. You’ve never had it longer than shoulder length, so you gently shake your head. Eridan chuckles softly.

“Perhaps you should, I’m certain you would look beautiful.”

Eridan gently pushes the hair out of your face, cupping your cheeks, and leans in. He pauses this time, giving you the time to turn your head and pull away. When you don’t, he leans in and tenderly kisses you.

You let him.

You owe him, you really do. It’s the least you can do for him.

 

* * *

 

 

“Happy wriggling day, Karkat.” You set the strawberry pancakes in front of him (his favorite, you made it yourself). The candles- three of them, he’s three sweeps old- burn brightly as you sit down next to him. He quickly flashes you a smile and blows them out in a second, barely pulling them out before beginning to devour the pancakes.

Three sweeps old. You’re so proud of him. And as per wriggling day tradition, you tell him your favorite story.

“You know, I almost ate you when you were a grub. I stopped at the last second because you were so pitiful.”

Karkat snorts and giggles before almost choking on his pancakes. “I know.”

“In my defense, you attacked my ankle while I was heading to my block.”

“Yeah, well, apparently I was starving to death.”

“You were.” 

Karkat laughed again, and you smile and kiss his forehead.

“Thanks for letting me live, mom.”

“Well, you got me out of the jade caverns, didn’t you?”

“Lady Maryam, the Grand Advisor and Her Glorious Radiance wish to see you in the royal garden.”

You stand and nod to the maid. “Thank you, we’ll be there in a minute.”

“Do you know what they want?” Karkat questions you. But he gets up with any complaint, stuffing the last bite of strawberry pancake into his mouth and wiping his mouth on his sleeve. You can’t remember how many times you’ve asked, or told, him not to do that.

“I don’t know, but let’s go find out.” You scoop Karkat up and kiss his cheek, heading outside.

“It better be quick, I wanna spend my wriggling day with you,” he complains.

The courtyard, and the royal gardens, are devoid of people, but there was tables set up and covered with pink cloth. You hear faint giggling until there’s a loud cheer of ‘surprise’, and trolls coming pouring out into the open. There are large amounts of younger trolls, but of course, the Empress and Eridan are there, as well as a few important royal officials who are already nursing glasses of wine and grumbling at the loud noise of the children. You chuckle to yourself- they won’t complain to you, or the Empress or Eridan, all three of you dote on Karkat, and they won’t risk speaking ill of Karkat in front of you.

The largest cake you’ve ever seen is brought out (vanilla, you can tell by the smell), covering in pink and gold frosting, with purple candles. There’s a large pile of presents to the side, and there’s another table, off to the side, where you can see where the officials got their own drinks from.

You think of the cake you made by hand, and the present you got him as well, and you can’t help but feel disheartened. You force a smile anyways and set Karkat down.

“How lovely, Karkat! They threw a party for you.”

Karkat looks the most upset you’ve ever seen him. He looks up at you with distraught before he’s swept away in the crowd of kids. You walk over to the Empress and her officials, and join Eridan.

“This is quite the surprise. We didn’t expect you to throw a party for him.”

Eridan shrugs slightly. “I didn’t, the Empress did. She wants Karkat to have more publicity before she makes him Crown Prince. It’ll give him a rank for his blood color and people will finally figure out how to act around him. Heavens know he gets whiplash from being treated like an adult half the time and treated like a child the other half.”

“I suppose, it makes plenty of sense to me.”

“She wants him to attend the prestigious military academy not too far from here.”

You nod in agreement. “Either way, Karkat has expressed interest in attending. I got him a lovely pair of sickles for his wriggling day. He’s not aware of it yet though, so don’t tell him.”

Eridan smiles at you, then lightly touches your braid. “You’ve grown it out.”

“Yes, while you were on your trip.” You pull the braid over your shoulder. “Does it look alright?”

Eridan tucks a loose strand behind your ear. “I think you look lovely. Come, I had something I wanted to ask you in private.” He gently takes your hand, and leads you away from the crowd and into the rose maze, around a corner so no one sees you.

“What is it? Has something bad happened?” You question.

Eridan shakes his head- he’s got a lavender blush going on, is he nervous?- and gently kisses you. “Kanaya, I want you to marry me.”

“What.”

He huffs, the blush grows deeper in color and his fins flick in annoyance. “You heard me. You’re as much of a public figure as Karkat is. I love you, and I want to keep you, and him, safe. If we make a public declaration like that- people will be less likely to target you for assassination and what not. Not when they’d knowingly be looking at a seadweller’s rage right in the face. And I think it will make Karkat happy too. Please?”

You do not love Eridan.

But you owe him. He’s done so much for you. He’s always been doing things for you, finding you small trinkets and pretty hair pieces to make you smile.

“It… makes enough sense to me. If you’re so certain it will turn out the way you think it will, then I suppose I have no reason not to.”

Eridan smiles and kisses you again.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s only about an hour before Karkat has ditched the other kids in the middle of a game and approaches you. He quickly tugs on your sleeve, and when you comply, leads you out of the courtyard and into the palace.

“Is something wrong, dear?”

Karkat shakes his head. “No one is playing right and they’re purposely going easy on me ‘cause I’m the prince. It’s not fun and I don’t like it. I don’t like parties either. I just wanna spend my wriggling day with you, mama.”

You flush lightly with pride as the two of you enter your connected respite blocks, and you uncover the red frosted cake you made.

“Chocolate?”

You can hear the hope in his voice and chuckle when you remember his disappointed face with the larger cake at the party was revealed to be vanilla. You hand him a slice. “Of course, it’s your favorite flavor, isn’t it? It’s not anything fancy like the one the Empress had made, but I know red is your favorite color.”

“I love it-!”

“Don’t speak with your mouth full. That’s rude.” You sit down on the bed next to Karkat, with the present in your lap. Karkat quickly finishes the cake, then opens the present at you prompt. He has the biggest grin when he pulls out the two, black obsidian sickles, running his finger along the blunt edges.

The two of you end up falling asleep for the rest of the night, talking about nothing and everything.

 

* * *

 

 

“There you fucking are! We’ve searched the entire city for you!”

You snap awake and sit up quickly. “Eridan?”

He’s angry and silent as he walks over to the bed. Karkat snuggles into your stomach, smiling in his sleep.

“We thought you were fucking kidnapped,” Eridan hisses at you. “We searched the entire city. Issued warrants. Fuck, we almost arrested someone!”

“He didn't like the party. He decided to take me with him.”

Eridan grabs you by your shoulders and shakes you violently. “Listen to me, Kanaya! This is what I am so scared of! This is about your safety! There are people out there who will not hesitate to kill you! You can not just disappear like that!”

Karkat’s hand snaps out and grabs Eridan’s wrist tightly. Slowly, he turns his head and glares at Eridan.

“Let. Go of her.”

Eridan sneers at Karkat. “Go back to sleep or let us talk, boy. This is about your safety.”

“Let. Go. Of her. Right now.”

Eridan lets go of you, and in turn, Karkat lets go of him as well. He snuggles back into you, still giving Eridan the stink eye.

“People must know your whereabouts at all times,” Eridan tells you sternly. “Or so help me, I will put a tracker on you.”

 

* * *

 

 

He puts a tracker on you anyways. You now where a thin black collar with a tracking chip that looks like a harmless choker.

He’s doing this for your safety, so you don’t complain.

 

* * *

 

 

Eridan is very angry. You’re not sure why.

The maid that dragged you into the throne block quickly retreats, and you don’t blame her. You slowly approach the raging seadweller, hands spread out to show you have no weapons. “Eridan, dear, what’s the matter? Why are you so angry?”

Eridan snarls and glares at you- the sclyria of his eyes are a burning red. “None of ya damn business, wench, get lost.”

“I’m not leaving until you’ve calmed down.” You step closer and gently touch his arm. “What’s happened-”

You don’t even see his arm move when he hits you. You only register hitting the floor and gasping for breath. You cower when Eridan goes to hit you again when there’s a quick blur of red that tackles him. You quickly sit up and scream.

Karkat keeps Eridan pinned down by standing on him with his full weight, screaming himself as he sinks the table knife into Eridan’s face.

“DON’T YOU DARE FUCKING TOUCH HER!”

You grab Karkat and forcefully pull him away before he can do too much, but the damage is already done when you scream for help. Karkat continues to struggle against you and scream curses at Eridan as he’s helped out by nurses- the Empress quickly follows him.

You collapse to your knees and hug Karkat tightly, gently shushing him and stroking his hair. After a minute, he stops fighting you, and after another, he drops the knife and hugs you tightly.

“It’s alright, Karkat.”

“He hit you!”

“Shh.” You pulls your head away and gently brush Karkat’s hair out of his face. “Listen to me, Karkat. He was in a rage. He did not mean what he said or did. You need to forgive him a look.”

Karkat’s face sets into a scowl, and he refuses to respond no matter how much you beg him to forgive Eridan.

 

* * *

 

 

“Mom, cmon, I just want to go to the park with a couple of buddies!”

“No, Karkat. You haven’t gotten Eridan’s permission.”

Karkat groans and throws himself onto your bed dramatically. “I’m eight sweeps, I’m almost an adult! I can take care of myself! I don’t need Eridan’s approval to do jack shit!”

You find yourself uttering the same words Eridan tells you all the time.

“There’s people who wouldn’t hesitate to kill us, Karkat. Everything he does is for our safety. He loves us.”

“He hit you,” he accuses.

You frown. “That was four sweeps ago, and when he was in a rage. It hasn’t happened since.”

“He makes you wear a tracking collar.”

“A fashionable one, and it’s so he can tell if I were to get kidnapped.”

“He put a collar on you, and you’re calling that love.”

You wince, and touch the collar with one hand. “Karkat, he’s simply doing what he believes will be the best for us.”

Karkat pulls your hand away from the collar and squeezes it tightly. “Mom. Do you even love him?”

You can’t find the answer to that question.

 

* * *

 

 

“I’ve been thinking.”

You roll onto your side to face Eridan. “About?”

“Well, I suppose I should say, the Empress and I have been thinking.” He’s on his side too, facing you, and when you turn to him, he sets a hand on your side and gently rubs your skin. “Now that he’s been crowned as crown prince, and of course, he’s had his adult molt.. We’ve been thinking about getting him a matesprit. It’s about time.”

“There was that teal blood he was introduced to at the ball, he’s taken quite an interest in her,” you offer, “She’s a nice young troll.”

You leave out the fact that that they are already probably dating, if the blush on his face the evening after when you caught him doing his own laundry is any hint. But you won’t breathe a word of that to anyone.

Eridan scowls. “Personally, I believe the Empress introducing those two to each other was a mistake. They’re both too dynamic, it’s like putting a bomb together. And her views clash with those of the empire. Too radical.”

“Too radical?” You echo, “What?”

“Her views on culling. If she had her way, she’d get rid of it. She refuses to see that it’s been so much help to thousands of trolls.”

“I see,” you respond carefully. “Who were you thinking of, then?”

“There’s a wonderful young olive blood, a cullee too, named Nepeta. Calm and focused, but with enough spirit to keep Karkat occupied. I think she’ll be good for him. I think you would be good friends with her culler, too.”

“Perhaps Karkat should have a say in all of this?”

Eridan chuckles and places a finger to your lips. “Shoosh. Don’t worry your pretty little head. It’ll be better if the Empress and I decide for him. We’ll take care of everything.”

 

* * *

 

 

“Kanaya, sugargrub?”

You set your sewing to the side and look up at Eridan as he slowly steps into your block. You quickly jump up, staring at him as your sewing tumbles to the ground.

Eridan is covered in red blood, the same hue as Karkat’s, and thick, dribbling black goo with the consistency of syrup. Water is welling up in the corners of his eyes, and although he opens to speak, nothing comes out. You push past him and rush to the infirmary.

Karkat is there, struggling and screaming as nurses try to get him to lay down. There’s blood, and the same black goo, all over the front of his uniform, splattered on the floor, and smeared all over his face and hands. It’s dripping from every orifice of his face, his nose and his eyes and his mouth, and there’s even more blood smeared against his neck, thick, like his eardrums had burst.

He makes a loud, startled noise when he sees you, lurching forward.

“Mama- mama mama-” he sobs, as he tries to get to you, but the nurses are holding him back. It feels like your heart was wrung through a stringer.

You rush forward and let him collapse against you, claws digging into your clothes. His nonsensical babbling and cries turns into grub-speak, the understandable chattering you learned to decipher, as you get him to lie down.

Scaredscaredscaredpredatorbiglargepredatordangerdanger-

You gently pet his cheeks as he shudders and sobs, and it should feel super gross and vulgar, you’re his culler, his mother, not his moirail, but he needs to calm down for medical attention so you’re sure anyone who sees will excuse your horrible actions. You successfully get him to start calming down until the Empress and Eridan rush into the block.

Karkat starts screaming and howling again, trashing against you in desperation, but the person he turns his claws onto this time is himself, clawing at his chest as the screaming chirps turn back into hurtshurtshurtshurts-

“Get out!” you scream at them, “Get out of my sight! You were with him, he went out with you two, you let this happen to him! You did this to him!”

“Kanaya, calm down-” Eridan begins, and you snarl at him, but in Karkat’s thrashing, he hits your horn hard.

The world becomes too small, and the focus is in the blinding white pain of your horn-

And suddenly you’re standing in the middle of the block, something warm is sloshing in your stomach, and royal violet has drenched the front of your already ruined gown. Karkat is still on the bed, curled up on himself and hiccuping, and all the nurses are gone, although they’ve conveniently left out supplies to fix Karkat’s wounds for you.

You think you attacked Eridan in a rainbow drinker rage and tried to drink his blood. You try to keep your… meal stomached as you rush back to Karkat, making him sit up and gently brushing away his tears to calm him. 

Once he’s calm again, you guide him up and to the infirmary bathing block. He sits on the bathblock counter, sniffling and rubbing his eyes like a grub, as you draw a hot bath for him and help him strip off the blood-stained uniform.

It’s like his mind has reverted back to being a grub, you hysterically muse as you help him into the bath. He tries to help you wash himself off of the blood, but he’s so weakened from blood loss that you make him lie down instead, supporting his neck as he drifts in and out of consciousness so he doesn’t snap it on the side of the tub. His breathing is raspy, and it terrifies you.

Washing away the blood and black goo forces you to have to drain and refill the tub with more hot water. There’s no injuries as you closely inspect each tiny fraction of his skin, other than his (thankfully) only popped ears, but you’re horrified to discover the goo dripping from his fiscal gills too. That means it’s filled his lungs, which is why he’s breathing so heavy, and you need to get that out of his system-

Karkat continues to float in and out of consciousness as you dry him off, dress him in one of your plain colored daygowns (you don’t want to put him in his own clothes, too many of them are tight and could aggravate any internal injuries you can’t detect), and get him to lie back down. As you leave, definitely to get him some food, maybe some sort of emetic, get him to dispel the goo from his body, when Karkat sits up straight in bed.

You stop and turn to him. “Karkat?”

He doesn’t respond, and just sits there instead, with wide red eyes. A single trickle of goo runs from his nose. 

You lurch forward and get him to turn, hovering his head over the waste bin by the bed, just in time. Karkat makes this awful noise and vomits up a large amount of the goo.

 

* * *

 

 

“He awake, Terezi?”

“Barely. Still thinks I’m dead. Come in.”

You walk behind the partition that kept Karkat’s area separate from the rest of the infirmary. Terezi’s rubbing Karkat’s back as he remains hunched over the waste bin, probably still recovering from vomiting once again. You give the bowl of soup to Terezi, gently sitting Karkat up and wiping his face with a towel from the nearby table. He shivers feverishly, looking up at you with miserable, droopy eyes, and you can’t help it, he looks so pitiful that you have to place a big kiss on his forehead to appease your hurting heart.

“Anything coherent yet?”

“No. Everything is fragmented and vague. I think his brain is trying to process and piece together what happened. We’re in the dark until he can. I’ve asked the Empress, but she says he got separated from the hunting group, and when they found him, he was already having fits.”

“Have you been giving him the emetic?”

“Yes. He’s been throwing up less and less goo. He’s starting to say his throat hurts after too, which means it’s more stomach bile than anything.”

“Good.” You sit down where Terezi was sitting as she relocated to the table, and gently begin to help Karkat eat the soup.

“Nice necklace.”

Terezi’s hand reaches up to the braided ribbons snuggly tied around her neck. “I gave him ribbons and beads to keep him occupied while we waited for you, since you said he liked doing that stuff as a kid. He made it and then insisted I wear it. He probably would’ve cried if I continued to refuse.” She pauses, and grimaces. “With all the other fragments directed at me, I think he’s under the belief that I got decapitated and he thinks the ribbons will keep my head on.”

“Is he still having delusions?”

Terezi doesn’t have to answer, because Karkat whimpers, gently touching your chest where he can feel your heart, then gently presses a large bandaid he had crumpled in his hand to your skin, directly over your heart. He leans forward, gently kissing the bandaid like you did when he scraped his knees as a wriggler, and then pats it.

“All better.” He promptly passes out, and you set the bowl aside, making him lie back down again.

“Still having delusions then,” you say, more to fill the silence than anything.

 

* * *

 

 

“Kanaya? He spoke.”

You almost drop the bowl of soup. Terezi quickly catches it, with minimal soup spilled, and you quickly set to work cleaning up the small mess.

“He did?”

Terezi nods, and places the soup on the table near Karkat’s bed- he’s asleep, which is both good and bad. He’s had severe insomnia as of late, but it’s been caused by mostly nightmares. You’re glad he’s able to sleep, but you won’t be able to do anything if he has a nightmare.

“He says he saw the Chimera.”

You stiffen, standing up and turning to Terezi. “The Chimera. From legends.”

“There’s no trace of horrorterror goo in his system. Brain scans and tests show he’s completely sane. Even lie detectors aren’t going off. He says he saw the Chimera, and he firmly believes it.”

“Did it tell him anything?”

She nods, but then her face screws up. “He doesn’t want me to tell anyone. He made me promise I wouldn’t. I can’t tell you outright but-” Terezi hesitates and wrings her hands. “I can at least tell you, it’s called The Reckoning. But I can’t say anything else.”

The Reckoning.

That does not sound pleasant.

 

* * *

 

 

It’s been six months since Karkat had his run-in with the Chimera, and has fully recovered from his injuries. He’s since come out to the public about seeing The Chimera, but he has not told anyone of what the Chimera told him, not even to you. Terezi still remains his secret keeper of the, what appears to be, some sort of mission to prevent The Reckoning she hinted at to you.

You’ve find yourself referring to The Reckoning as you would the end of Beforus.

But that doesn’t matter now. Today is Karkat’s titling day. Today is the day he is no longer just crown prince Karkat, but becomes The Chimeric, the son of the Chimera. You couldn’t be any more proud of him.

“Almost done, Karkat. Be patient!”

Karkat huffs at you as you fix the laurel wreath to frame his horns beautifully, then adjust his cape yet again.

“There, you’re ready.” You gently squeeze his shoulder before taking a step back. “How handsome. I’m so proud of you, my dear.”

 

* * *

 

 

You’re there when the Empress announces Karkat’s engagement. The pure distress on his face, and on Terezi’s face, breaks your heart.

 

* * *

 

 

Karkat has been locked in his block for three weeks since the engagement was announced. He’s not allowed out, and only you, Nepeta, and Eridan are allowed in.

At nights when he is particularly angry, you can hear him rage from all the way across the castle, screaming and cursing spitfire at anyone who tries to pacify him. The maids and servants avoid his wing of the castle when they can, and you do not blame them at all. Even though Nepeta still visits Karkat, the Empress has given up on the idea that she would be able to pacify them. You’re simply concerned he might hurt the poor girl in a poorly timed bout of rage, but he’s yet to hit her- you don’t think he blames her for the situation, as much as she finds her annoying and proclaims to hate her. Nepeta always assures you the lack of anger he throws her way is proof that he doesn’t resent her as he tells her sometimes.

You reassure her that he definitely does not, he’s simply in love with someone else, and he’s angry with the Empress and Eridan for interfering. Nepeta always gives you a sad smile, and you know she truly cares for him, but there’s nothing you can do if he’s already promised his heart to someone else.

You quietly knock on Karkat’s respiteblock door, then step inside. There’s no response, and when you gaze inside, he’s face down in his bed, asleep. Tear tracks are on his face. He must have cried himself to sleep.

You close the door behind yourself and set the food for him on the nightstand. No warm foods tonight, if he’s asleep, you don’t want it to go bad before he wakes up. Instead, there’s greens, and a loaf of bread, and some cheese. There’s no real reason to give him an entire loaf of bread, but it’s fine. He’s been burning a lot of calories raging. Yes, that’s it.

Karkat stays motionless on his bed, utterly asleep.

You go to the window and look out. There’s a pretty view of the courtyard from his window. You can see all the way to the palace gates.

The block is too hot, and a little stuffy. Yes, you’re certain that’s why you pick the lock with a hair pin and open it up. He needs some fresh air, and the block could stand to cool down a bit. That is absolutely it, you think, as you leave the block and close the door, with the window still open. You will be utterly surprised when he vanishes during the day.

 

* * *

You are not utterly surprised when it’s announced he’s missing. But you pretend to be and cry in Eridan’s comfort.

 

* * *

 

It’s been three weeks since you’ve seen or heard anything about Karkat. There are handsome rewards for any news on him, whether if he is okay, or where he is.

You’re worried, of course. You’re his mother. You’re aware he won’t come back to the castle, he can’t risk getting caught. But you pretend he will. You keep him bloc tidy, and free of dust, and you wait outside during the day for him, with a cloak, incase he doesn’t have one to protect himself from the burning sun, Sometimes Eridan sits with you, wrapped in his own thick cloak. But you never speak to each other when you’re outside. You simply sit, wait, and listen. Even though you know there is no point in waiting. But you’re pretending, so you continue to do so.

You’re tired, and your eyes are beginning to droop. Eridan is already fast asleep against one of the castle pillars, wrapped up in his cloak despite being in the shade.

The media has portrayed the two of you as a mourning couple, waiting for your son to return. You suppose that’s not too far off. You close your eyes.

“Mom.”

You gasp and jerk up. It’s the middle of the day, and Karkat is right in front of you, bundled in a thick coat to protect himself from the sun.

You stare at him in shocked silence. He reaches out and fiddles with your tracking collar for a moment. It suddenly gives a metallic chirp, and splits in half, and Karkat pulls it off of you and tosses it to the side. He offers his hand to you.

You push his hand away.“Karkat, you need to leave. Right now, someone is going to catch you. I’m not the mourning mother they’re portraying me to be, I’m just pretending-”

“Come with me,” he whispers to you. “I’ve got an army. I’ve got a following, trolls who believe in my ideals and are as ready to fight for it as I am. We can start a revolution. We can prevent The Reckoning.” He offers his hand to you again. “You can be free. Please. Come with me.”

You squeeze his hand tightly. You can’t seem to find your voice, and Karkat is looking at you with such hope.

You take his hand and run.

You never look back.


End file.
